Excruciatingly Quiet
by eightbitGuitarist
Summary: When Maka is chosen to go off on a DWMA mission for a year, Soul finds himself lost without his meister, finally finding his feelings for her. Soul is changing, and cannot wait for her to come home.
1. Eight Months, Gone

**A/N: Oh, goodness! This is my first FanFic written, a SoMa, SoulXMaka, whateveryouwannacallit. Sorry for any mistakes - I proofread the best I could. I REALLY hope you guys like it, and would LOVE it if you would review! Currently working on the second chapter of this. I'll update soon as possible. Thanks, guys. I'm really hoping for your support in this. :3**

* * *

"_C'mere, Soul," Maka called to me, her voice soft and trembling slightly, a foreign and unpleasant twist to the normally bright, melodic notes she spoke. Stepping out of my room, I peeked around the wall to see her standing with her face practically pressed against the kitchen window, up on her toes. She was bare-footed, with my baggy, too-long, gray sweat pants hanging off one side of her tiny hips, exposing the lace of her black panties that Liz most likely forced her to buy, a t-shirt on top. Her hair was down and still wet from our ride home in the rain. An image of Albarn that not many had the privilege – and yes, it was a privilege – to see._

_Maka barely even flinched as thunder cracked, and a flash of lightning split the sky, illuminating the dark room for a mere second. The power had gone out with the raging storm, and the kitchen had a few candles lit, their light flickering softly. _

_ I walk over and put a hand on her shoulder, massaging it gently. "I thought you hated thunderstorms."_

_ Maka sighed softly, looking up at me with big, tired green eyes. "I'm surprised you ever noticed," she murmured, the corners of her lips twitching up. I let out a chuckle and just shook my head, looking at her for a moment longer than necessary before my gaze flickered up to the rain smacking against the window. I'd say pattering, but… It was much too subtle a word for which the violence the droplets slapped against our apartment window._

_ "I don't want you to leave." _Wow, _I thought. _Talk about uncool. But…_ It was true. And Maka and I didn't keep secrets. I looked down at her to find the emerald orbs already locked on my scarlet ones. The shades of green shimmered as her eyes glistened with the beginnings of tears she was trying desperately to hold back. _

_ "Neither do I, Soul." I could barely hear her small, scared voice over the sound of the rain. Maka took a deep breath and tore her watery gaze from mine to stare out the window, a single tear rolling down her cheek, dimly flickering off the candle's lights. "Neither do I."_

* * *

I peeled my eyelids open with a groan, the sharp sunlight birthing an ache there that spread infectiously from my tired eyes through to my pounding temples. Sitting up, I planted my arms behind me for leverage and looking around with a defeated sigh. It was beginning to become a nightly thing that, after hours of insomnia, I would go to sleep in Maka's bed. Sometimes even sleepwalk there. I would awake, her sweet vanilla-strawberry scent wafting up from the comforter bunched beneath me, one of her favorite shirts clenched in my hand, her pillow damp with my tears and eyes puffy.

Maka had been gone for nearly eight months. It would be in a few days that the anniversary of the last time I saw her, last time I held her, last time I acted completely normal, came around. Sure, my head was starting to feel better from extensive lack of Maka-chops, and maybe it was nice to be able to go out with Black Star, and not have a waiting, angry tiny-tits waiting for me on the couch with a hardcover book and a devious scowl, and maybe I liked only cooking for one every night, and sitting alone at the table, and not having to wake up to comfort her nightmares of her mama leaving.

But then, maybe… Maybe the Maka-chops didn't bother me _all_ too much since I normally deserved it, and maybe I secretly liked walking in the door, purposefully an hour or so past 'acceptable time', to see that worried, helpless look on her face vanish, and be replaced by utter relief. Anger, yes, but relief as well. And maybe I liked cooking for two, sharing her laughs and her smiles and her 'chops over the tiny kitchen table. And maybe, after being shaken into consciousness by a tiny girl who was always so strong and tough around everyone else… Maybe I loved that she would crawl into bed beside me some nights, and we would talk and laugh quietly among ourselves, making her forget those nightmares she'd had. Maybe it was all those things that made the apartment _ours _– the mixed aroma of vanilla-strawberry and what she described as musk and raspberries that had claimed the rooms, the mess of books and magazines she and I left sprawling around, the dinner we cooked and the dishes we cleaned every night, together, the photographs of us and the gang on the wall – that made me miss her so, incredibly bad.

_It's only a few more months, _I tell myself.

_One year away from her won't kill your bond, _I tell myself.

_Maybe she found someone better, _I tell myself.

_Maybe she's not coming back._

* * *

I walk into the classroom, late as usual, ignoring Stein's glare and obvious debate between using the knife in his hand to dissect the creature on his desk or impale me, as I take my seat. And that was where the normal stopped.

I focused in class, writing down notes and lessons and doing homework and acing tests, just wanting to be up there on her level when she came back. I knew that she would approve of my work, just as well pleased, and just as well suspicious. I knew that one hand would brace on her hip and she would lean to her side, rocking her opposite foot and narrowing her eyes slightly, her evaluating-and-judging gaze. She'd done it a thousand times back home, when I'd offered to take the trash out for her, or help her with something, or asking something about a book she was reading/had read. Thought I was just kissing ass.

But I knew that it was the look on her face when we finished early because of my help and sat down to watch a movie. I knew it was the way she curled into my side and rested her head on my chest, never moving the entire movie unless one of us _had _to. And I knew I would stay there, both because she loved the movies, so I would try my hardest to, and because it was the way she leaned on, depended on me, that made me feel on top of the world, no matter how terrible the movie was.

She was the only one who didn't flinch when she looked at me.

I hadn't seen that before she'd left. And now, I was going back to fix a few things. I'm still cool, obviously. But cool guys are good to their meisters, and even better to amazing girls. So what did _Maka_ get, because of her inane and perfectly balanced ratio of tough meister and sweet girl?

It was time to change, and stop being so **excruciatingly **_**quiet **_about how loud this heart of Soul Eater Evans sang for Maka Albarn.


	2. Deficient Phones

"Dude, is something bothering you?" Black Star jabbed at his ribcage and Soul scowled, twisting away.

"I'm fuckin' fine!" He snapped back, much too sharply for such a casual question.

"It's _her, _isn't it? Been almost a year now…" His crimson eyes found the blue-haired, self-proclaimed 'God' with a wave of shock hidden beneath his perpetual frustration. Did he… care? Like, legitimately care about the well-being of someone other than himself and Tsubaki? "I just… Things ain't been the same without her Maka-chops and her chair all empty and stuff…" The blue-haired wonder had begun trailing off and Soul couldn't help but let out a chuckle. They _had _grown up together, fought, hurt, and been there by each other's sides though every injury, insult, and enemy.

Soul took a deep breath and just… nodded. It _so _wasn't cool of him to just be discussing these feelings right now, with this person – sure, Black Star was his best friend and all (other than Maka), but he had an IQ lower than a rock, and Soul could swear he had a blow-horn strapped to his face when he talked. But Black Star did have his moments, and he seemed to understand when things just shouldn't be yelled out for all ears. It was somewhat obvious that the Death Scythe had been pretty broken down lately. "I know it's stupid, but… I just _miss her, _y'know?"

Black Star nodded. "I gotta admit, bro. Maka was kind of what made you… You." Well, he had a damn good point there.

"I know, man. And it's just so _uncool_."

"Heyheyhey – don't get yourself worked up. Maka and you are inseparable, seriously! Like, if one of you died, I swear to myself – because I'm God – that you'd just pop back up from the ground, like a flower, or … or, a Friend-Dispenser or some shit."

Soul bit his lip, finding a certain calm in the small jabs of pain that burst like firecrackers from the piercing of the pale skin with his shark-like teeth. _What is she did die? What if she hadn't sent back a letter the past month and a half because she was _dead_? What if she really wasn't coming home to me? Oh, shit, I couldn't handle that! I wouldn't even be able to stay in the apartment, because of the memories and her things and the aroma an- _

"SOUL."

"Wha-? Oh, uh. Yeah. Whatever you were saying." Black Star could see in the way his brow was furrowed, how he wasn't yelling back, and how his ruby eyes were drenched in worry and fear.

"Man, Maka can take care of herself. She's a helluva fighter! She wouldn't go down without a major fight that we woulda heard from all the way over here! No-sir-ee, she's fine – your God swears it!"

Black Star's words did little to ease his fears, but he couldn't help himself as a small smile tugged at his slightly-aching lips. "You're right, man. Maka'd have to _work _to not get home with only a few cuts and bruises to tell for it."

"That's the spirit, bro! Now, I think we should shut up before Stein throws a scalpel. And honestly, I'm not sure how much my superior and awesome ninja-skill can hold up to those knives. He's CRAZY accurate!"

* * *

After school, Soul flung open the door, letting it click shut by itself, relishing for a moment the scent that bathed over him despite the tremendous silence. He walked over to the living room and sat on the couch, where it was stronger, and found himself reminiscing about the times when he would walk in and find Maka already there, on the couch in her cute little bookworm shorts and a hooded sweatshirt, headphones plugged into her head and nose stuffed in a boring book, no matter how definitely not-boring the scene was to Soul.

* * *

_ "Maka? I'm home!" I called out to my roommate, letting my keys slide with a soft tinkling noise into the dark red bowl on the shelf in the entrance hallway, hanging my coat up on the hooks below said shelf. No answer, but I heard humming and footsteps, so I knelt down behind a side-table and looked at her over the mahogany-polished wood. _

_ Maka was cleaning, surprise surprise, and had her headphones draped over her head and resting over her ears, surprise surprise, but she was also dancing around and singing softly which was, in fact, a most definite surprise. She bit her lip and plugged her iPod into our set of large speakers in the corner of the room and turned it up fairly loud. I chuckled softly, not worried about her hearing me as _Hips Don't Lie _by_ Shakira_ played, which was a sort of ridiculous song, but I knew she loved that sort of mix between Latino and pop music. _

_ Okay, more surprise. And it was definitely cool. _

_ Maka, who had only just recently gained womanly curves and endowment, was rocking what she had shamelessly, unaware of me. She sang along, unabashed of neither her beautiful voice nor beautiful body as she rolled her hips, leaning over slightly and vibrating her whole south end. I swallowed hard – was this really Maka in front of me? And then, of course, she just HAD to dance provocatively to _Sexy Back_. Because God forbid she listen to any decent music. I let out another soft chuckle as she said 'motherfucker', something very unlike her, and found myself blushing ten shades of red as I thought of Maka… And shackles…. And whips…..._

Gah. So uncool._ I shook the images from my head and watched my meister and roommate rock it, unconscious of my presence. The soft afternoon light fell across her thin frame graciously, accenting her curves and features nicely, flashing against the muscles that flexed and pulled as she moved, and I had to admit, it really was quite attractive._

_ Finally standing halfway through _Candy Shop_ by _50 Cent_, I didn't think I could take any more of that. My mind drifted, wondering if my watching was maybe a little weird, but I pushed the thoughts away and stepped into the living room with a laugh, breaking her trance, and receiving a gracious Maka-chop to the head._

* * *

Jerking up, Soul realized he'd fallen asleep on the couch as he drifted off into memory. He grinned at what he had dreamt of when the phone rang. It was odd – no one ever called the home phone, but whatever. He stood, still grinning, and pulled the phone from its cradle, clicking 'receive'. "Yo."

_"S-soul? Oh, thank God you answered. It's incredible to hear your voice…" _

Holyshitholyshitholyshit.

"M-m-maka?"

_"Hey… Sorry I haven't sent a letter. I was… Busy."_

"N-no, it's fine!" His voice cracked, and he paused to get control of himself, not noticing the footsteps in the background. "It's fine," he tried again, controlling the rough, low tone of his words.

_"Alright. How've you been?"_

They continued to exchange pleasantries and, it was the weirdest thing. Soul could _swear _he heard her voice echoing from inside the apartment somewhere, and close by, too. Hm. Must be a defect with the phone. However, the hands that silently wove themselves around his waist, thing and small and elegant, were unmistakable.

"I'm home."


	3. Say Again?

**Oh, my goodness! I know, eight reviews is not at **_**all **_**very much and I do have a tendency to gush, but… each time I read those I just feel so awesome! So thank you, guys! And thanks to readers who don't review, as well. I still love you! So, here's chapter three… Welcome home, Maka! 3  
**

* * *

Soul whipped around to the achingly familiar voice, the phone slipping from his suddenly limp fingers and clattering onto the counter. The dial tone echoed through the kitchen, almost as if it were letting out a whine at him for being so careless.

"M-maka," he breathed, eyes widening. His lips tugged into a stupid-wide grin and he wrapped his arms around her upper-thighs, picking her up and spinning her around. His forehead pressed against her stomach and Maka grinned, letting out a squeal and laughing. After a minute, he finally let her body slide down, until he could raise his hands to rest them on her thin, strong shoulders, the pair's shared joy palpable. "You're home early. How-"

"We beat the witches. All three. I could go home sooner than they had anticipated."

He grinned and gazed down at her. She had matured – stronger features, more womanly, though her big emerald eyes still shone with that fierce, young and childish light. And that, that was Maka. And he wouldn't trade it for all the money in the world, not a single other woman, not for an accepting family, not for cars or big houses, not for the most amazing piano the world had ever or would ever see. Because who needs all the money and cars and good pianos when the woman in front of you is much more comfortable in a small place, where you're close together and comfy, and when an old motorcycle is much better for keeping her close, and when those small, strong hands of hers play your heart in a melody no piano could ever recreate.

Soul caught her in a tight embrace, one hand wrapping around her waist and the other tangling in her hair, which had grown to her navel. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck. "I missed you…" he murmured softly into her skin, his voice low and rumbling.

She couldn't deny that the sensation sent a shiver down her spine – Soul felt it.

"I missed you, too."

His voice was barely audible as he whispered into her neck, "I love you, Maka."

"What?"

"N-nothing.."

"It's not cool to take stuff like that back, Soul."

"Don't tease me about my coolness."

"Say it again."

"Don't tease m-"

Maka laughed softly. "Not that, you idiot. What you said… Before that…"

"Erm…"

There was a silence between them.

"I love you, Maka." He spoke louder now, not wanting to have to repeat it so awkwardly again, despite the fact that all he'd _ever _wanted to do was scream it out the window to the entire world. _Damn irony, _he thought to himself.

There was more silence, but Soul could feel the wide smile forming and tugging at her rosy lips. "What took you so long?"

Soul raised his head, looking deep into those gorgeous, emerald orbs, shimmering with light and joy and curiosity and… and….. _Maka. _How the hell else did you describe those eyes, on a woman like that? He twirled a lock of ash-blonde hair around his finger absent-mindedly. _Yep, _he chided silently. _I'm a goner. And it is _so _cool._

"I love you, too, Soul. I always have."

Her words shocked him out of his trance and Soul was frozen for a moment. So, there it was. _She loves me…. And she always has, _he repeated in his a small flash of his trademark, cocky and shark-toothed smile, Soul closed his ruby eyes and leaned forward to press his lips into Maka's for a kiss long awaited and much obliged.

He felt her small hand weave around his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer as Maka kissed him back. And damn if he didn't practically fall over right then and there.

Everywhere she touched him, from their locked lips to his stark-white hair that she finger-brushed, to where her fingers and wrist would brush against his neck, his nerves exploded in waves of shocking, electrifying heat. He stifled a gasp because, well, letting one slip would've been so uncool. Instead, Soul ran his fingers through her long hair and just tried to focus on not melting, and keeping in control. Because control was cool. But, then again… If this was still the Maka he knew, control was the _last _thing he'd be able to maintain.

As if on cue, he could feel Maka's soul wavelength reaching out to him, and he linked with her. They didn't resonate, no, they were a little busy for that. But this just made them feel all that much closer.

If they could get any closer, that is.

* * *

**(Listening to Don't Wanna Miss a Thing – Aerosmith while writing this part! 3)**

Soul gazed down at the sleeping beauty in his arms, a soft smile playing at his lips. After a lot of kissing, a lot of catching up, and a lot of noodles for dinner, Maka had insisted he stay in her bed tonight. Not like he'd minded one bit. Maka was now laying half-on top of him, one arm under and around him and the other resting on his chest, her legs tangled with his as he lay on his back. His fingers combed through her hair, which was splayed loosely, catching and glinting off the moonlight gently, said light falling across her face and softening that gentle, peaceful look she got when she slept well, without nightmares. He caught her smile and wondered what she was dreaming of, with a somewhat good idea, before letting his own eyes slide shut. He didn't really sleep, but dozed a bit, his soul wandering.

* * *

Soul shrugged the suit jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the back of the loveseat. His soul had found its way into the Black Room, and to be honest, he wouldn't mind a bit of piano. Sitting down at the bench, his long and dexterous fingers draped over the keys and began a… Soft, slow-tempo song. It shocked him, what was flooding from his piano. A sweet, elegant kind of music, nothing at all like his normally harsh, hurt music. It was happy and beautiful, and he thought he knew exactly why.

"That sounds… Different from your usual playing."

Speak of the devil.

"I guess you're right." Soul turned to see Maka, clad in a black cocktail dress and brushed her knees and black pantyhose, with her signature black strap-boots, walking over to the record player turning it on, a moment of scratching before tune similar in demeanor to what he'd been playing filled the room.

"Care to dance, Soul?"

"What I wouldn't give…" he trailed off with a soft smile and stood, walking over and wrapping his arms around her waist, Maka's palms and cheek pressed to his chest. "I thought you were asleep."

"Same."

Good answer, Maka.

He chuckled and leaned down, kissing the top of her head.

"Hey, Soul?"

"Hm?"

"You promise to stay, right?"

He knew about her and her parents, how much it drove her crazy, how it made her trust no men, ever, not romantically. "There's no woman I love, or want, more than you, Maka."

"Say it."

"I promise, Maka. I'm not leaving."

She nodded, seeming to think for a moment. "Soul?"

"Yeah, Maka?"

"You won't be able to hold onto me."

Soul chuckled again and took one of her hands, lacing their fingers together and leaning Maka back into a dip, her back arched over his hand, and leaned over her slightly with a small smile. "Watch me."

* * *

**SO. I have changed my mind, and decided that this is the end of EQ. I think that its a nice little cliff hanger ending that leads you to want more. However, if you guys want a sequel of their being together, add a review or PM me! Let's say... 5-10 requests for a sequel, and I'll type one up! Thanks for reading guys. **

**Loveyou!**

**Audio.**


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